


There's a First Time for Everything

by TheGiantSquid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-13
Updated: 2006-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-26 07:33:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGiantSquid/pseuds/TheGiantSquid
Summary: Hermione sees something she doesn’t want to see, Ron learns something he rather not learn, and Ron and Hermione tell some secrets. No plot at all.





	There's a First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: **A/N:** A little bit of fluff written for the **rhr_ficrecs** community’s challenge on livejournal :) Thanks goes out to **shocolate** for looking this over for me!! Enjoy! (Reviews are welcome ;D)  


* * *

** There’s a First Time for Everything **

Hermione refused to admit she was drunk. A little tipsy, perhaps, but no no no, most definitely not drunk. But _honestly,_ one has to admit that ears are remarkably hilarious body parts and the giggle fit she was currently experiencing was because of that fact, and most decidedly _not_ because she was drunk.

“I am _not_ drunk,” she declared loudly as she and Ron stumbled into her and Ginny’s London flat.

“That’s great, love,” Ron mumbled, steering a chuckling Hermione into the kitchen so that he could make her (and himself) some Hangover Potion. “Here, sit down,” he said, motioning to a chair he’d pulled out for her and then turned to find her supply of potions powders. A loud _whump_ echoed off the tiled floor and Ron spun around— _not_ a good idea, he thought with a groan—to find Hermione sitting red-faced on the ground.

“M’on the floor,” she said unnecessarily, and blinked owlishly up at Ron. Grinning, he bent down and helped her into her seat. “Good boy,” she murmured, patting him lightly on the cheek, and then promptly let her head fall against the table top with a loud thud. 

Amused by a drunk Hermione, Ron mixed together some water and the Hangover Potion, letting it sit for the requisite five minutes, and then placed a mug down in front of Hermione’s still form. She stirred, and then raised her head wearily.

“Wassis?”

“Hangover Potion.”

“M’not drunk. Just happy. Haaaappy.” Hermione sighed happily and then swallowed the concoction in one gulp. Ron shifted on his feet, ignoring the shot of arousal at seeing Hermione’s throat so exposed and creamy looking, and took a swig of his own potion. A few moments later, his head began to clear and the happy, fluffy feeling he was experiencing not seconds before was almost completely swept out of his system.

Blinking to clear his head of the last few pesky cobwebs, he looked down and saw that Hermione had buried her bushy head in her hands. Concerned that he’d not fixed the potion correctly, he crouched down and touched her shoulder gently. She jerked and sat up quickly, eyes wide and mortified.

“Oh, Ron,” she said breathlessly, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he said, cutting her off quickly. “Please. It was a fun night and getting you pissed had always been on my Things to Do Before I Die List, so...” He trailed off with a shrug, blushing slightly.

Hermione licked her lips and nodded. She then broke out in a huge grin. “It was a good night, wasn’t it?” she replied coyly, and Ron flushed, though he couldn’t help but smile, either.

Hermione stood and stretched like a cat, giving Ron a fair view of her bare stomach, and said, “I hope we didn’t wake Ginny when we came back. She’s got a Healer exam tomorrow and needs all the rest she can get.”

“I don’t think we did,” Ron replied absently, still eyeing Hermione’s shirt in hopes that it would magically fly up and expose more than her tummy... “She, ah, probably would’ve come out to see what the commotion was all about if it had.”

“True, true,” murmured Hermione. Looking up, she smiled and asked, “Do you want to freshen up before going back to your flat?”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to peek in on Ginny, just to make sure she’s all right.”

Ron nodded and followed Hermione out of the kitchen and down the sole corridor of the flat that led to the two bedrooms and the bathroom located in between. He was just opening the door and about to step inside when Hermione squeaked and shut the door to Ginny’s room quickly, but quietly.

“What is it?” Ron asked, concerned, and stepped closer to where Hermione was standing, her hand still clutching the doorknob to Ginny’s room. “Are you all right? Is Ginny all right?”

“She’s fine, Ginny’s fine, she’s very...fine,” Hermione said, her voice rising with each word.

“Are you sure?” Ron pestered, moving closer and peering over Hermione’s shoulder in an attempt to see anything at all.

And then his breath hitched in his throat.

He was practically standing on Hermione, who hadn’t moved an inch and whose mouth appeared to be perfectly in line with Ron’s neck, judging by the puffs of air he was feeling. It was quiet, too quiet, though Ron could hear Ginny moving about on her bed...actually, if he strained hard enough he thought he could hear her moaning slightly. Blimey, he hoped she wasn’t having a nightmare—

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. Hermione hastily clamped a hand over his mouth and all but shoved him into her bedroom, throwing a Silencing Charm at the door for good measure.

“Ginny—she—moans—she—” Ron spluttered, as his face turned an alarming shade of red.

“Ron, calm down—”

“Sex!” he finally gasped out. “She—Ginny—sex!”

Sighing, Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and sat down on the edge of her neatly made bed. She really wasn’t in the mood to discuss Ginny Weasley’s sex life with her brother. Hermione suddenly wished she was still dru— _tipsy_. Then, at least, she would be reassured that Ron would forget the entire incident in the morning. Damn. She was going to kill Ginny. And Harry, for good measure. And maybe advise him to get some sun. No one’s bum should ever be that pale.

“Yes, Ron,” she finally quipped, tired of hearing him gasp out the word “sex” every other second, “Ginny’s having sex. She’s a grown women, I daresay she’s allowed to do whatever she wants with her own body.”

“But—she—she—sex!” Ron blurted, and then threw himself onto the bed in what Hermione considered an overly dramatic act.

“Oh, _honestly_ ,” she snapped impatiently. “It’s just sex.”

Ron covered his face with a frilly pillow and mumbled something into the satiny fabric. Pursing her lips, Hermione snatched the pillow off his face and threw it across the room, demanding, “What did you say?”

With a great sigh of discontent, Ron sat up and whispered, with burning ears, “I said it wasn’t fair.”

“ _What’s_ not fair?”

“She’s my little sister—ugh, I can’t believe I’m even thinking this—”

“Ron, if you don’t spit it out in the next five seconds, I swear I’ll hex you into—”

“I just said it’s not fair that my little sister lost her virginity before I did!” he exploded, and then with a horrified look on his face, buried himself under a pile of pillows.

Stunned, Hermione blinked stupidly at Ron’s twitching legs. “R-Really?” she stammered. 

Ron got very still, and then said in a muffled voice, “Don’t tell Harry.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione laughed, because it was such a _Ron_ thing to say, and he sat up immediately, looking rather furious.

“It’s not funny, Hermione! I’m a twenty-two year old virgin, I’m well aware of how sad that is without you reminding me!”

He went to stand up and probably storm out of the room in true Ron Weasley fashion, but Hermione grabbed him by his forearm and pulled him back onto the bed. “Stop,” she said, trying to suppress a grin, “I’m not laughing at you, prat.”

“What, are you laughing _with_ me?” Ron scoffed, and Hermione shook her head, amused.

“Don’t be daft. Do you want to know a secret?” she offered.

Ron perked up. “Harry’s a virgin too?”

“Um, no,” Hermione said, frowning, and a dark look crossed over Ron’s face.

“That’s him in there, isn’t it,” he growled. He tried to stand up again, but Hermione once again pulled him back down to sit on the bed.

“Stop it,” she said impatiently. “It doesn’t matter who’s, ah, in there with Ginny. I was going to tell you a secret, remember?”

Grunting, Ron crossed his arms across his broad chest and kept one eye on the door.

“You said that being a twenty-two year old virgin was sad,” she began tentatively, “so what would you consider a twenty-three year old one?”

“Well that’s pretty sad, too, I suppose. What’s that have to do with anything?”

Hermione sighed. Merlin, that boy was thick sometimes.

She examined the cuticles on her hands for a minute or two before a soft choking sound emanated from Ron, indicating that he had finally cottoned on.

“You mean—?” he said, gesturing vaguely at her with his hand. Hermione raised an eyebrow and he flushed a dull red.

Scratching the back of his head, he said, “I always, um...I’d always thought you and the wanker What’s-His-Face—”

“Eric.”

“ _Eric_ —I always thought you and him were...you know, close and all. Like that,” Ron finished weakly.

“Why would you think that, Ron?” she inquired, lifting her chin.

Ron’s chin dropped into his chest. “Because you two were together for yonks and you always seemed so happy,” he mumbled to his shoes.

“So happiness equates to sex, is that it?”

“Bloody hell, Hermione,” Ron snapped, “that’s not what I meant, and besides, Ginny’s been in a pretty good mood these past few weeks. And so has Harry. Bloody hell,” he moaned, and dropped his head into his hands.

“Well, I wasn’t happy with Eric,” Hermione said softly, and she saw Ron raise his head a little. “And...well. I don’t know. I suppose I was just waiting for the right man to come along. It’s not as if I’ve romanticized sex or anything. I’m not a prude, and I think sex can be an amazing experience. And hot, too,” she added thoughtfully. Ron made a pained noise and shifted on the bed. “I just...It didn’t feel right, with Eric, and really, there hasn’t been anybody else I’ve ever felt that close to. Well, that’s not true.”

Ron’s head whipped around and he gave her a piercing look. “What do you mean?” he asked, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. Hermione pretended not to notice the bulge in his jeans. 

Feeling giddy now, and possibly still a little tipsy, she continued, “I just mean that I have to trust someone if I’m ever going to be that intimate with him, wouldn’t you agree? I...” She paused and glanced at Ron. He was watching her with such intensity that it made her shiver, and it certainly wasn’t from the cold.

“You what?” he whispered, and Hermione’s heart began to beat erratically. 

Swallowing, she struggled to remember was she was going to say earlier, but for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence all of a sudden. And when did the room get so _hot_?

Taking a shaking breath, Hermione opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and suddenly found Ron’s lips attached to her own. Gasping, Hermione kissed him back and sat up on her knees to gain better access to his mouth.

Ron groaned and clutched at Hermione’s blouse, pulling her flush against his hard, very masculine chest. Hermione sighed into his mouth as Ron’s arms encircled her smaller frame and his large hands settled firmly on her arse. Grinning, Ron pulled back slightly and managed to gasp out, “This all right?”

“Perfect,” Hermione responded instantly, and proceeded to do some exploring of her own.

She found that she really liked how Ron shuddered when she ran her nails across his furry chest and around to his back.

And she really liked how, even while shaking, Ron still knew just what to do with his tongue and her nipples, that he knew that she liked it just a little rough.

She liked how, even though it only lasted seven minutes, it’s was still _perfectperfectperfect._

“Perfect,” she sighed seven and a half minutes later into Ron’s shoulder. She felt him chuckle and pull her closer to his body.

“I was rubbish,” he murmured into her hair. “I couldn’t even—you didn’t even—” He broke off, and Hermione could feel his face growing hot. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that you kicking me in a place where I’d prefer not to be kicked could hardly be construed as perfect.”

“It was an accident!” Hermione exclaimed, laughing. “And you nearly pulled my hair out of my head _and_ you sneezed on me!”

Ron laughed and gave her a squeeze. “Like I said, rubbish.”

Hermione shook her head, smiling, and said, “It was perfect. It was us. And we’ll have plenty of time to practice and learn.”

Looking up, she caught Ron’s twinkling eyes and winked.

“I love you,” he whispered. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat and a smile bloomed across her face.

Craning her neck, she planted a kiss on his lips and murmured, “I rather fancy you, too, Mr. Weasley.”

Laughing, Ron flipped Hermione over onto her back and began tickling her mercilessly until she cried uncle, and then he proceeded to show her that he was indeed a very fast learner.

_Fin_


End file.
